novellk Chapter 69 Jumping Mission?
Chapter 69 Jumping Mission?
After leaving the camp, the little snail went straight to the trial grounds. He raised the torch with one hand, stepped over the edge of the underground fissure, and entered the sloping mine tunnel.
As the light was gradually cut off by the rock wall behind them, the surrounding temperature began to drop precipitously.
The terrain inside the mine is not a smooth, man-made terrace, but a natural cave structure filled with faults, gravel, and irregular stalactites. The air is filled with a smell similar to sulfur mixed with decaying plants.
As the altitude continued to decrease, the little snail felt a slight burning sensation in its respiratory mucosa.
That should be the basic response of the physiological system to a harmful environment.
Very detailed, highly recommended.
He stopped and held the torch in his hand forward.
Within the area illuminated by the firelight, a layer of thick, dark green gas had accumulated on the ground. This gas did not diffuse upwards, but rather flowed slowly along the uneven rocky surface like some kind of viscous liquid.
The little snail observed the black smoke produced by the burning torch. The black smoke rose straight upwards, dissipating before reaching the top of the cave, while the dark green gas remained at a height of less than half a meter above the ground.
This gas is much denser than regular air. The indigenous people of the Warrior Tribe are generally around two meters tall, and as long as they walk upright, their heads can indeed be in a relatively safe air layer.
However, intense combat requires large movements and severe anaerobic breathing. Once they wield heavy weapons in the gas layer, the sinking miasma will be stirred up by the airflow and then inhaled into their lungs, causing irreversible organ damage.
The little snail thought to itself, "No wonder those soldiers in the tent were all chuckling when they heard it was this trial; they were just messing with me!"
Quickly abandoning this useless thought, the little snail pressed the torch against the rock wall and crushed it forcefully until the last spark went out.
In an unknown, enclosed space, a fire source not only consumes limited oxygen but also becomes the most conspicuous target.
My vision was plunged into absolute darkness.
The little snail closed its eyes, trying to wait for its pupils to adjust to the darkness. A few minutes later, by the faint glow of some minerals on the cave ceiling, it could roughly make out the direction of the rock wall.
He hung his rusty iron pickaxe on the rope buckle at his waist and climbed back up the rock face with both hands.
With its fingers gripping a crevice in the rock, the little snail, like a gecko blending into the darkness, elevates its body to the edge of the cave ceiling, about three meters above the ground. Utilizing the coordination of its limbs, it alternates its strength between the irregular rock walls and the stalactites, slowly moving laterally into the depths of the mine in a hanging and side-climbing manner.
This is practically a classic MapleStory jumping quest, and it's unbelievable that it's appearing in the first job advancement trial.
Unbelievable!
After advancing for a few hundred meters, the mine tunnel suddenly opened up, forming a huge underground cavity.
Heavy breathing sounds and the noise of hard objects scraping against the rocks came from below.
The little snail hung upside down on a thick stalagmite, looking down.
Below, in the layer of poisonous gas, roamed seven or eight wild boars, each the size of an adult water buffalo. Their backs were covered with a thick, stainless steel-like carapace, and their hooves pounded the rocks with dull thuds.
Could it be an armored pig?
As the snail's gaze swept across the area, it spotted several enormous skeletons scattered in a corner. The skeletons were a grayish-black color, corroded by acidic substances over a long period of time, and nearby lay the remains of a rusted heavy hammer and a two-handed sword.
These must be the warriors of the Warrior Tribe who perished here throughout history.
Looking at these remains, and then at the heavily armored wild boars roaming back and forth below, the little snail figured out the tactical dead end that led to the natives' defeat here.
Warriors who value strength are accustomed to head-on confrontations. In the confined spaces and obstructed vision of mines, facing heavily armored hordes of beasts, they can only rely on explosive power to smash through their shells. And in this environment, vigorous movement inevitably leads to the inhalation of churned-up toxic gases.
The final result was not death by being hit by a wild boar, but death from acute internal organ failure caused by poison gas.
The little snail hung upside down in mid-air, its eyes fixed on the heads of the armored pigs.
He discovered that these monsters had only a layer of cloudy white keratin membrane around their eye sockets. Living underground in complete darkness year-round, their visual organs had completely degenerated, and they relied entirely on hearing and smell to move.
The little snail took off its sweaty, coarse cloth shirt, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into its backpack.
He then scooped a handful of damp, cold mud from a crevice in the rock wall and applied it evenly to his exposed skin, using the low temperature of the mud to block the release of body odor.
After doing all that, he broke off a fist-sized piece of rock from the nearby rock strata.
The arm muscles contracted, and the rubble was thrown deep into an abandoned mine tunnel at the other end of the cavity.
"Thump."
The stone struck the rock wall with a crisp, clear sound.
The herd of wild boars below instantly stopped wandering around. All the monsters turned towards the direction from which the sound came, letting out low growls, and then charged wildly toward the abandoned mine tunnel with all four hooves.
The poisonous gas on the ground was stirred up and boiled by the wild boar's charge.
The little snail wasted no time. Taking advantage of the open space below, it used its limbs to climb quickly across the dangerous area from the rock wall at the top of the cave.
Players don't need to worry about warrior's dignity; as long as they understand the monsters' underlying targeting logic, it's a simple stealth game.
Beyond the territory of the wild boar herd, the terrain of the mine tunnel began to rise slowly, and the dark green poisonous gas on the surface gradually thinned out.
After traveling for about ten minutes, the snail's path was completely blocked.
What appeared before him was not a natural mineral vein fault, but a huge metal explosion-proof door.
The little snail jumped off the rock wall and landed on the dry ground.
He walked to the metal door, his fingers tracing the cold metal surface. This was definitely not the cheap iron sheet produced by the Warrior Tribe, which crudely heated raw ore in a fire and then hammered it. The door panel was made of high-strength alloy material, and although the surface was covered with a thick layer of oxide, the cutting craftsmanship at the seams showed an absolute industrial standard.
On the right side of the gate is a massive gear transmission mechanism. Dried, blackened traces of industrial lubricant remain at the meshing points of some gears. On the central metal disc of the main gear, a corroded logo is faintly discernible.
The little snail frowned slightly, its mind rapidly piecing together fragments of its worldview.
This door, this set of gears, and the sophisticated hydraulic transmission structure most likely originated from an abandoned city.
After all, no other major city on Treasure Island has this level of industrial development, unless these things come from other places.
If my judgment is correct, this means that this so-called deep black iron ore vein was not a natural monster's lair in the distant past, but a highly modernized underground industrial mine jointly developed by multiple city-states.
Perhaps due to some unknown change, the technology experienced a generational gap.
The modern facilities were abandoned, and the original inhabitants of the Warrior Tribe forgot the glory of machinery, degenerating into brutes who could only dig stones from the surface with crude iron picks.
The little snail tried to push the door, but the metal plate didn't budge. With its current physical strength, even ten of it probably wouldn't be able to budge this level of blast door.
This is really giving me a headache...